


As you do

by DmitriMolotov



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DmitriMolotov/pseuds/DmitriMolotov
Summary: Word to the wise: never underestimate Trevor.Merry Christmas Lucky!





	As you do

The man handcuffed to the stainless-steel table came to slowly. It was technically against department policy to restrain an unconscious suspect unless they were deemed a particular threat. None of the four officers in the room would have deemed this man a threat of his own merit. While he was at least 6’2, he was probably barely 130 lbs ringing wet and had a young face with innocent wide brown eyes and very clean-cut dark hair. His head lolled sideways and one of the officers slapped him hard in an attempt to bring him around. It only succeeded in changing the direction his head rolled. His cheek was scraped and bloody, and his arms were bruised and scratched. There was a chance he had a broken wrist, but the paramedics had given them the all-clear to take him to the station. There may have been some pressuring involved. After all, it wasn’t every day that the LSPD managed to wrangle the leader of the Fake AH Crew into custody.

~

 

“What the fuck happened?” Jack practically yelled as Jeremy and Geoff limped through the door into the penthouse. Jack had clearly been pacing and Gavin was on the phone, likely trying to get hold of Michael and Ryan who hadn’t yet returned. He nodded acknowledgement before going into the other room to talk.

“We hit a roadblock…” Geoff managed to mumble.

“Literally,” Jeremy added. “Trevor damn near killed us.”

“Where is he?” Jack asked, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Geoff shook his head, “couldn’t get to him in time. He was out cold. Paramedics were on route when we got away.”

“Shit. You think they got him?” Jack asked.

Jeremy shrugged, “I mean, there’s a chance he got away...”

Geoff shook his head, “the LSPD were all over it, fucking swarming it. He’d’ve had to have been really fucking lucky.”

Jeremy went quiet, looking at the floor, wishing there was more he could’ve done.

“Well that was a right royal cock-up,” Gavin exclaimed as he returned, “Ryan and Michael managed to get their cars on the bloody police radar, so they had to ditch ‘em. They’re out in smegging Blaine County until the heat dies down… What happened to you lot?”

“Accident.” Geoff said simply. “Trevor got got.”

Gavin snorted. “Well piss. Spectacular effort, as always.” He rolled his eyes. “So what, we gotta go get him out now?”

Geoff shook his head, “If we don’t hear from him in the next few hours, _then_ we get him.”

The others looked at him quizzically.

“Trevor’s clever… Kid’s got a degree in aerospace engineering – he’s almost a literal goddamn rocket scientist. He’s far more clever than he lets on… He’ll be ok.”

~

 

“What a dopey looking fucker,” one of the officers commented as Trevor finally regained enough sense to grin up at them. Perfect smile and bright eyes, despite the trauma he’d just been through.

“Oh… Top o’ the mornin’ gentlemen!” Trevor beamed, wincing slightly at the way the smile clearly hurt the abrasions on his face, “must’ve been a big night, I don’t remember getting all your numbers. Must’ve been a busy boy. I hope you all had a good time though.” He winked through the pain it caused him and smiled even wider at the horrified and confused glances the officers exchanged. “Whatever did we get up t-” His wrists caught in the cuffs as he went to hold out his hands and he slowly looked down at them, eyes lingering a while as his brows arched high. With a look of mischievous surprise, he added, “well then… that usually costs extra.”

One of the larger officers stepped forward, sandy hair slicked back and greasy, steely blue eyes glaring as he towered over Trevor’s seated form. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Mr Collins.”

“Shit…” Trevor trailed off seriously, before shaking his head and feigning embarrassment, “I’m sorry guys, I’m really bad with names. Please, don’t take it personally.”

A second man stepped forward; this one in more office-appropriate attire, with thick rimmed glasses and dark hair in a short ponytail. He dropped a thick green folder on the desk with _“FAHC 1 of 16”_ scrawled on the front in thick black marker.

Trevor blinked at it a few times and cocked his head sideways before letting out a long sigh of apparent relief and grinning. “Oh, you mean _that_ … oh well that explains a _lot_. That could’ve been real awkward.”

They couldn’t tell if he was kidding, but their patience for him was already wearing thin.

The first, blue-eyed man stepped forward and gave him a sharp backhand slap that left Trevor’s head ringing and reverberated painfully through his cheekbones.

“We’ve got enough dirt on you and your crew to put you away for the rest of your life… which given the evidence,” he tapped the folder for dramatic effect, “might not actually be all that long. Los Santos doesn’t exactly frown on capital punishment for the likes of you... But I’ll give it to you straight: you may be the leader, but you’re not the fish we’re lookin’ to fry, kid. So how much are you willing to talk about the Fake AH Crew?”

Trevor shrugged, “What can I say? They’re a bunch of _animals_. You’ve seen how they act; how they _dress_.”

The officers exchanged bemused glances, before turning their attention back to Trevor, a few now carefully looking him up and down.

Trevor was wearing a white, collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a waistcoat, black leather gloves and dark jeans with sneakers. Despite having been in a car accident only hours previously, only a few strands of hair were out of place, now hanging down into his eyes, but even then, it managed to look deliberate, in that styled-to-be-messy kind of way.

He was certainly no Geoff Ramsey, but you could definitely see the influence if you squinted.

Blue eyes glared at him. “Are we going to do this properly or not?”

Trevor shrugged, “I dunno, you tell me man, this is your tango… or whatever dance that apparently needs five people to dance… a line dance maybe? Bootscootin’ does sound more your speed.”

The man with the ponytail pulled a chair up to the table, sitting as far as he could get from Trevor, and flipped open a small notepad to start scribbling notes. The largest officer who’d been standing by the door cracked his neck and pulled over a chair to sit down, clearly anticipating a long chat.

Blue eyes glanced at the other man in the room, a scrawny-looking blonde, who gave a nod but remained standing, watching attentively.

Trevor watched as they all took their places, a smug smirk settling onto his face. “So, I’m new to this one… where do we start?”

~

 

“Just got a text from Ryan,” Gavin called up to the others from where he was flopped on the couch, “he says Treyc’s _is_ in LSPD custody. They’re interrogating him.”

The others were sitting or standing around the kitchen counter, going over the adjustments they’d have to make for the next parts of the heist.

“How does _he_ know?” Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gavin pulled himself upright and shrugged, heading to where the others were sitting. “Dunno… hang on,” he frowned down at his phone for a minute before tapping out a text reply.

He sat down next to Jeremy and a few seconds later Gavin’s phone buzzed again. “Oh, that bastard!” Gavin squawked.

“What’s it say, Gavvers?” Geoff grinned, already anticipating the answer.

“That _bloody_ bastard. It just says: ‘Meg’.”

Geoff and Jeremy immediately exploded into laugher while Gavin quietly seethed.

Jeremy leaned in to look at the screen, howling in laughter again, “he even put the little winky face!”

“Aww come on! Why didn’t she tell _me_ first?”

“Should’ve asked first, Gavin,” Jack said with a smirk.

Gavin pouted.

Geoff wiped tears from his eyes as he settled down, laughter trailing off. “Well, the good news is that we don’t have to worry about Trevor. Give it a bit and then see if we get a call, but I doubt he’ll need our help.”

“You sure he’ll be ok, Geoff?” Jack asked with a slight cringe, “He is the boss now after all; what if they get… _creative_ … with their interrogation methods?”

They’d all seen Ryan’s idea of getting creative and they’d heard rumours of the FIB’s methods being just as vicious. The LSPD weren’t exactly on the same level as the FIB, but for a chance at the Fakes, well, nothing was off the table.

“Treycs will be fine. He won’t give ‘em anything. Trust me. If anything, he’s going to come back with dirt on _them_. He’s a devious sonovabitch. He can take care of himself.”

~

 

“Alright Mr Collins, let’s start at the beginning.”

Blue eyes was clearly leading this interrogation, ponytail was the notetaker and the other two were observation and possibly added security. They weren’t going to give Trevor their names or any of the usual courtesy they gave to other suspects. It wasn’t a standard protocol situation, not when the AH crew were involved. Trevor was quietly proud that the reputation preceded them and even extended to him, although considering he’d been their leader for some time now, he really shouldn’t be surprised.

“What were you doing prior to the accident?”

“Accident?” Trevor asked, sounding genuinely confused, “mmmm… gonna have to fill me in a little bit there.”

Blue eyes was patient, “Your vehicle was involved in a high-speed pursuit. You collided with a police roadblock heading north onto the Palomino freeway.”

“Oh, well, clearly I was driving before the accident.”

The man at the door desperately tried to hide a chuckle with a cough.

Blue eyes and blondie both shot him a look before Blue eyes continued, “And before that? What was your crew up to in Downtown Los Santos?”

“Just a bit of harmless fun. A joyride if you will.”

“The Fake AH Crew don’t know the meaning of ‘harmless fun’,” ponytail commented under his breath.

Again, Blue eyes shot him a look. He wasn’t having anyone undermine his authority on this.

Trevor just laughed, “you have a good point. Vocabulary isn’t exactly one of their strong points either… although… actually no never mind it kinda is really. I mean…”

“What are you planning?” Blue eyes barked suddenly, cutting Trevor off before he could start ranting again.

Trevor blinked a few times. “Oh… we’re planning a heist. Yeah. Mmhmm,” he nodded enthusiastically, “Usually are. ‘Always be planning’, that’s the motto.”

“And what are you planning on heisting?”

“Information.” Trevor replied simply without hesitation.

“So, this was mean to be like, a reconnaissance mission?” Ponytail asked before snapping his mouth shut as Blue eyes glared at him again.

“Not quite, no. Not really anyway… it’s complicated. I really shouldn’t go into the details…” Trevor shrugged apologetically.

“It could be worth your life if you do,” Blue eyes barely concealed the threat, “it is in your best interest to keep this conversation going.”

Trevor pulled a sceptical face that seemed to suggest he wasn’t interested in complying, but he went on nonetheless.

“Alright, well, we’re planning on breaking into a series of shops on Portola Drive up in Rockford Hills. Real swanky places where all the rich folks shop. We’ve got a contact over in Liberty City who’s very interested in some of the wares and taking them off our hands for us. In exchange for some interesting heist equipment that’ll let us scale buildings, Batman style! The boys have some big plans for that…”

Ponytail was furiously scribbling notes, eyes wide, head shaking. Everyone was shocked he’d give up their plans so easily.

“We’re going to need all the details, names, addresses…” Blue eyes encouraged him, looking back to the others to see the same shock on their faces.

“Sure,” Trevor said nonchalantly, listing names and addresses of stores, their owners and respective security systems and the names of their contacts over in Liberty City off the top of his head.

Ponytail was writing it all down, but surely there was a whole team of people observing and checking the information in real time, just behind the two-way mirror that covered most of the side wall… Such a cliché.

Suddenly, for the first time since Trevor had started talking, Blondie’s expression changed, brow furrowing, and he reached for his pocket, pulling out his phone that was vibrating furiously. He tapped at it before answering: “Hayes, go.” He hummed a few times in acknowledgement before his eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. “How much of it?” He let out a long breath through his nose. “Fuck. Thanks.” He hung up and glared directly at Trevor, locking eyes as Trevor’s lips twitched up into a devious smile.

“Son of a bitch is a liar. None of it checks out. He’s been listing cartoon characters and talking out his ass.”

Ponytail shook his head and dragged his hands down his face, scrunching up the piece of paper in front of him and throwing it aside.

“What can I say boys? I’ve got a bit of an imagination sometimes. I just gotta let it out.”

The man at the door rolled his eyes and huffed, already bored.

Blue eyes shook his head and Blondie spoke up, “Just tell us where your crew are and we’ll call it even.”

Trevor’s eyebrow twitched upwards, but he remained stoic. “I don’t think so.”

“They’re not worth your life.” Blondie suggested.

“Eeeh,” Trevor said with a shrug, “Who’s really to say, I’m no economist.”

Blue eyes planted both palms on the table with a resounding thud, changing tactics yet again and going for intimidation. Big mistake.

“You’ve slipped up, kid. You fucked up, and now you’re in serious trouble, because we’ve got you right where we want you.”

Trevor grinned even wider and laughed, eyes sparkling, that glint of danger back.

“See, you say that, but it doesn’t really factor in one thing…”

“What’s that?” Blue eyes cocked his head sideways, mockingly. “Your crew? This place is locked down, nobody knows you’re here and sure as shit no one’s getting in to bust you out, so if you think for a second that-”

“Why does nobody think about what _I_ want for a change, huh?” Trevor cut him off with a frustrated whine, “did it ever occur to you that maybe I was exactly where I wanted me to be? No. Because you only think of yourselves. Typical. I’ll bet you never even thought to check me for weapons.” He raised an eyebrow, daringly, reaching for his breast pocket slowly.

Blue eyes caught the movement first and threw himself across the table to grab for Trevor’s hand. Quicker than his eye could catch, the handcuffs seemed to fall off of Trevor’s wrists, before snapping shut on his own. In almost the same movement, Trevor’s elbow connected with the bridge of the officer’s nose and blood spurted over Trevor’s clean white sleeve, his other hand reaching for the man’s gun in his shoulder holster, wrenching it free and ducking down to use his body as cover. With years of rehearsed speed, he checked and readied the weapon, not even giving it a second thought as he pressed it to Blue eyes’ temple and paused.

“Now,” Trevor said smugly, “Who here still thinks you’ve got me where you want me?”

The officers froze, stunned and gaping. Ponytail began reaching for the pistol at his hip; the movement barely more than a twitch, but Trevor was quick to react. Quicker than the cops in the room.

The bullet entered right between the officer’s eyes and he fell face-first onto the notepad, blood running over the table from the wound like spilled ink.

A dark stain appeared on the inseam of Blue eyes’ pants and Trevor wrinkled his nose distastefully.

“Gross,” he remarked, putting another bullet into the larger man near the door and training the gun on the remaining officer, Blondie, who promptly raised his hands and cowered in submission.

“You,” Trevor pointed to him, “you’re my new best friend. We’re going to have a great time together, you and I…”

He disarmed the man and very quickly dug through his pockets for his personal effects, finding a wallet and a badge. He flipped open the badge and was greeted not with the usual LSPD symbol, but a rather more authoritative FIB badge.

“Here I was thinking you might be a rookie and all this time you’re the fed!” Trevor laughed, “I really hit the jackpot.”

“You’re making a huge mistake…” Blondie pleaded.

“Eh, that’s fine, we all make mistakes… It’s like Geoff always says, ‘if you make enough bad decisions, every once in a while, things work out for you.’”

Trevor pushed him towards the door, turning briefly to frown at Blue eyes, still handcuffed to the desk and calling for help, before shaking his head and following the other man out.

~

 

“Well shit… if you’re sure, I’ll let them know. Thanks Ryan.” Jack hung up the phone just as Geoff’s ears pricked up.

“What’d he want?”

“Trevor just called him,” Jack began.

“Good. Told ya the kid’d be fine.”

“Yeah… he said he had some federal company and asked Ryan to have a room ready for him in Sandy Shores Self Storage.” Jack’s tone dropped and Geoff’s stomach flipped.

“Oh.”

Jack nodded, “ _Oh_ , indeed.”

Jeremy and Gavin exchanged a curious look. “What’s ‘oh’, Geoff?” Gavin asked.

Geoff paused to think for a moment. “I think this heist might be more fruitful than we originally thought. Sounds like Trevor’s found a better way to get that intel.”

“Well that’s awesome,” Jeremy said.

Geoff nodded, “Oh yeah, there’s a reason he’s the boss now.”

“Sounds like Trevor’s getting serious,” Jack commented.

“Yeah…” Geoff hummed thoughtfully, “When Trevor gets serious… you really don’t want to be on his bad side.”

“Really?” Gavin frowned, “I don’t think I‘ve ever seen Trevor’s bad side.”

“Just hope you never do,” Geoff paused, eyes drifting out of focus, as if recalling something from long ago. He visibly shuddered. “Trevor’s uh… well, Trevor’s a creepy motherfucker.”

~

 

Trevor quickly learned that Blondie made a surprisingly effective human shield. It took him next to no time to escape the station and after a few messy backtracks and vehicle changes, including a slight detour through a subway system, the pair had successfully evaded pursuit.

Trevor used Blondie’s phone to contact Ryan, requesting a room at his usual favourite hotel. Ryan knew the code and was more than willing to help facilitate. Ryan had offered to stay and help but Trevor refused, and Ryan knew better than to push it, he wasn’t interested in making more work for himself at any rate.

When the pair arrived at the largely abandoned self-storage shed, Trevor pushed Blondie – whose name he’d now learned was Evan Hayes – into a well-used room with foam soundproofing on the walls and alarming reddish-brown stains on the floor where a metal chair was bolted down.

On a folding table pressed against one wall there was a row of tools nearly set out, including a claw hammer and various knives and saws as well as duct tape, rope and cloth; and under the table was a deep toolbox, undoubtedly containing even more implements of unspeakable horror.

Trevor quickly set to work securing the man to the chair with duct tape, while he chattered away, trying to perhaps appeal to his humanity or something, Trevor wasn’t entirely certain, he’d been doing it for most of the trip and it had only really served to grate on Trevor’s nerves.

“So, back at the station, that thing with the handcuffs, uhh… where’d you learn that?” Blondie asked. The inane babble of a man trying desperately to bide his time, to placate his attacker, to outsmart his enemy. The babble of a man who had severely underestimated his opponent.

Trevor replied with all the cool confidence of a man who knew exactly how much of an upper hand he possessed and all the ease of a practiced professional.

“Oh that? Neat trick, huh? I learned that back in high school, believe it or not. I went through a real big magic phase. Got me all the puss.”

The man now helplessly tied to the chair looked at him blankly, fear setting into his eyes.

“That was a joke,” Trevor pointed out, “you’re meant to laugh.”

The man stared a second longer, bemused look on his face before offering a weak laugh.

“There you go,” Trevor’s grin returned to his face without ever touching his eyes. “Now, Evan,” Trevor continued cheerfully, “I’m going to need your help with some government secrets. See, I wasn’t kidding when I said our heist was for intel. What we want is to be able to break into the FIB building, and I’m going to need you to tell me how best to do that…”

Hayes swallowed hard and shook his head, “I really don’t know anything.”

“Oh, come now, we can do better than that…” Trevor said in a sing-song voice as he wandered over to the table and picked up a scalpel. It looked like it had been used before.

Something resembling confidence manifested itself in Hayes at the words. It was possibly the way Trevor spoke with such child-like innocence, but for whatever the reason, Hayes was suddenly full of vinegar.   “You won’t… You don’t have the guts.”

Trevor just grinned even wider, putting the scalpel down and picking up the claw hammer without flourish.

Hayes swallowed hard again, shrinking back in his bonds, but it was clear Trevor had decided his fate.

“You can’t… I… I…” Hayes stammered.

Trevor just glared at him, the smile dissolving from his face into stony resolve.

“Oh no, go ahead, underestimate me. That’ll be fun.”

~

 

Trevor returned to the penthouse well into the evening. He was spattered in blood, almost none of it his own. He was whistling as he walked in the door.

“Jesus Christ Trevor,” Jack was the first one to spot him, “what the fuck happened to you?”

“Oh, hi Jack! I’m fine,” he replied, glancing down at the mess of viscera he was coated in, “things just go a bit messy is all…”

“As they do,” Ryan piped up from the couch.

“As they do,” Trevor parroted back, staking directly to the fridge and grabbing a can of soda.

Gavin gagged upon seeing Trevor and Michael let out a high-pitched giggle, Jeremy turning around to bark a laugh at the casual spectre of Trevor so casually brushing off what must have been the bloodiest encounter he’d ever seen.

“I told you, Trevor’s a creepy motherfucker,” Geoff insisted, shaking his head.

Trevor held his hands out, palms up as if in acceptance, “Hey, on the bright side, I got that intel we needed for the heist! And FIB agent learned a valuable lesson not to underestimate people… or he would have, if he was still alive to learn anything from it.”

Trevor shrugged and popped the tab o his soda, taking a long sip, the rest of the penthouse watching in stunned silence.

“Hey guys,” Gavin said, “remind me never to piss off Trevor.”

“Done.”

 

 


End file.
